


The Circle Married The Line

by great_neckpectations



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:58:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_neckpectations/pseuds/great_neckpectations
Summary: This story centers around neighbors, Alma and Chris. Their developing relationship reveals a story that is as ancient as time and new as the day.Original characters: Chris and AlmaBased on “The Circle Married the Line” By Feist





	The Circle Married The Line

The voices of Mallory and John from WSGU channel 14 kept Alma company as she packed for her shift at the hospital. She checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror and smoothed down her edges of hair. She was visibly tired. The redness of her eyes was proof that last night’s double had taken its toll on her. She drew in a deep breath and exited the bathroom.

Her cat, Freyja, seemed to have a simpler life. All Freyja had to do was meow to get food. Someone always cleaned the shit out of her litterbox and when she felt it appropriate, she would permit Alma to pet her. Now Freyja laid stretched out on the worm green couch. The light from the television glowed on her calico patterned fur. Alma sighed. She was jealous of the peace Freyja found in the evening. She would rather stay at home or swim in the ocean.

Alma grabbed her bag for her overnight shift at the hospital. Being a nurse in the maternity unit was hard but rewarding work. She loved aiding in bringing in new life to the world. Additions to the world excited her, but in her life she felt alone. There seemed to be something missing. That wrenching gut feeling felt stronger these days and picking up extra shifts at work could not calm it.

She stepped out on her porch. The warm breeze of late summer greeted her. She looked forward to the days becoming shorter. Maybe if the sun was completely set by the time she went into work, she would feel less like she was missing out on life. She lazily walked down the four steps and stopped to take in the sunset. The light blue in the sky was now being overtaken by purples, oranges, and reds. And there it was, the moon. Always there but now it was its time to show off and not be burdened by the sun.

The faint sounds of classic rock coming from next door stole her attention. The fair-skinned man named Chris had moved into the home next door in June. The two neighbors had not interacted aside from polite nods or hellos after their introduction. He sat on his porch, seemingly taking in the sunset as he chugged down a beer. He bobbed his head to the tune. It seemed familiar.

“Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter

Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here

Here comes the sun”, the voice sang against guitar melodies.

Alma recognized the wobbly male voice accompanied by harmonies as George Harrison and the song as “Here comes the sun”. Chris seemed to be mesmerized by the sunset. It’s dimming light shone on his full golden beard and his blue eyes were as brilliant as the ocean when the sun is high. To Alma, he was nice view before she went of into the world of screaming newborns and sterile white walls.

She threw her bag in the backseat of her car and started her engine, backing out of her unpaved, driveway. As she put the small sedan in drive, she caught Chris looking her way. He nodded as he always did and she smiled and gave him a small wave. He didn’t seemed to see her acknowledgement. Alma set her eyes on the road and stepped on the gas to race towards the horizon line.

Chris brushed the stray strands of hair away from his face as he sat on his porch. His feet rested on a crate. It was a long 10 hours at the textile factory and his feet ached for relief. As soon as he got home, he rushed to get a beer and loaded up his bluetooth speakers for his wind down playlist. The sun was still out and he wanted to catch the last few moments of its beauty.

He flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. He was man who loved working with his hands. The callouses his labor left on his thick fingers served as a reminder of that hard work. Yet as much work as his hands saw, they remained restless.

Caught in his thoughts, Chris bobbed his head to the Beatles. And just as the song lamented, it seemed like ages since he was able to fully enjoy the sun. His day off was tomorrow and he intended on enjoying it’s company while working on his truck and possibly mowing his overgrown lawn, if the heat allowed.

While the sunset was beautiful, it made him long for it more. Since his move in June, he had only gotten to see it low in the sky before the other side of the world got to wake up to its warmth. It made his recent melancholy worse and his self-imposed isolation made him ill-prepared for the approaching end of summer.

The sound of a humming engine pulled him from his thoughts. His neighbor Alma was leaving for work as he had always known she did in the evening. They had cordially spoken since his arrival, but nothing beyond that. Their schedules never aligned to allow substantial conversation. He was able to get a peak of her through her windshield and gave her a silent nod. She probably didn’t see his slight friendly gesture, he thought to himself.

When her vehicle was out of his sight, he pulled out a blue notebook. The notebook was filled with small sketches and short poems on its frayed pages. He turned to the more recent page and there was an unfinished outline of a woman, Alma to be exact. She wore some sort of headwrap. Chris had never seen her wear one, but for some reason or another, he thought she’d look nice in one. He began to work on the sketch. He began to add her ample hips and the extra weight she carried around her stomach.

Chris found himself studying the way Alma’s hips and backside swayed when she left for work or how her stomach pouch and breasts jiggled ever so faintly when she jogged up her steps when she returned home in wee hours of the morning when his day began. To him, she was the perfect subject for his sketches.

The words next to her profile in his notebook were fragmented phrases about her skintone and facial affects. “Sun-kissed skin” or “nervous or worried eyes” was scribbled down for possible color or transfer to a bigger canvas. The later would be an issue due to his brief moments around her. When the sun had set and the moon’s light was not enough for him, Chris took this as a cue for bedtime. He had a full day of errands and chores waiting for him and of course the sun.

Alma sat in her car for a moment in the first light of the morning. She was exhausted from her shift and looked forward to a day off. She steadied her breathing as she held onto the steering wheel. Drawing in a deep inhale and exhaling in relief, she removed her keys from the ignition and retrieved her bag. As she drug her body to her steps, she saw Chris coming out his tool shed with a toolbag in tow. This time he gave her a wave and she returned it with a small smile and nod.

As her foot reached the last step, she stopped and watched Chris lay out tools in front of his truck. She admired his commitment to early rising even on his day off, evident by his lack of work clothes. In the morning’s twilight, he was handsome as ever even with his scruff. Chris caught her obvious staring and seemed amused. She hurried inside before she embarrassed herself further.

When she crossed her threshold, she was greeted by Freyja with a brush against her leg and a meow. After a long, warm shower, Alma laid in bed with her curtain shut to block the sun’s rays. She tucked herself into her teal sheets and stared at the ceiling until her heavy lids forced her into sleep.

_Alma felt warmth on her skin. She found herself laying in grassy field. The sky was clear and the sun was directly overhead. She set up and felt hazy and light as the breeze. She turned to the rows of sunflowers to her left. She cautiously walked toward them and saw movement in the corner of her eye. She followed the tall shadow as it rounded the corner in the maze of giant flowers. When she caught up to the figure, it looked…he looked like her neighbor Chris facing the sun as the tall plants did._

Alma awoke to sun strained eyes, a sweaty brow, and the sound of a lawn mower. She pushed herself up on her elbows, still groggy and slightly annoyed. This man not only made an appearance in her dreams but he now interrupted her sleep. He and the sun, both intruders to her slumber. She looked down at her phone and saw it was ten past noon. She couldn’t be too mad at him as it was time for her to wake up.

Her bedroom was sweltering. According to the forecast, it was already 84 degrees. Tonight was her first night off in weeks and coupled with tonight’s full moon, she was determined to find herself in the ocean. Peeling back the sheets, she made her way to the window unit. The A/C’s cool air provided much needed relief from the heat as she watched a shirtless Chris push the loud contraction in the summer heat.

Alma felt she could safely watch her neighbor from her window. The sight of him made her feel more prepared for her errands for the day. Gathering laundry and her grocery list, Alma made her way to her car. Chris was still heavily engaged in his task of cutting the grass. His muscular chest gleaned with sweat and moved up and down as he took it extra oxygen.

As she made her way outside, the sun greeted her with radiant rays. Her attention was once again captured by her attractive neighbor. Alma wasn’t one for outright flirting, she was subtle. She fetched a bottle of cold water from her fridge and left it on his porch, without notice. It wasn’t until Chris turned the mower around, did he see the gift Alma left. He rolled perspiring bottle across his forehead and his neck before downing its contents. He searched his surroundings and saw Alma staring at him from her opened car door. Nonverbal as always, he raised the bottle in thanks to her. She gave him a thumbs up and folded into her car.

It took a moment for the air conditioning to cool down her car. However, she didn’t seem to mind the fleeting warmth. The sun was a welcoming sight for her tired eyes. She let herself enjoy its presence. She took comfort in knowing that the moon still shared the sky and she would be able to enjoy both on this day.

Chris watched Alma come and go periodically. One trip brought groceries and in another trip, she brought back a basket of clean laundry. The day wined down and before he knew it, the sun was setting. However, this time it did not feel like saying goodbye to your lover. Perhaps it was the rest from work, but he was content on seeing tonight’s full moon. In fact, he welcomed it with a sense of renewed energy.

Chris tended to his sketchbook. Seeing Alma during the day gave him more inspiration to finish her portrait. He loved the way the sun bounced off her earth toned skin. He enjoyed seeing her outside her scrubs. They way her leggings hugged her body kept him distracted in the most delicious way. Chris had a gift for hiding his gazes. He’d rather keep his desires a secret between him and his notebook.

After twiddling his pencil on the notepad for five minutes, Chris realized he was stuck. It seemed like there was just not enough time in the moments they interacted. There was not enough time in the cycle of 24 hours to get her just right. Perhaps he needed to suck it up and extend an invitation to hang out. Admiring from afar could not capture what he wanted.

There it was again, the restlessness. For all the work he completed today, his hands moved anxiously around his body and performed tricks with his pencil. Maybe sleep would calm him and his job would distract him from his body’s uneasiness. As he rose from his seat on this front porch, Alma exited her house again. Five times in a day was record for him.

She wore a black sheer swim caftan over a black two piece. Chris stayed in place and watched as she loaded her car. She looked over at him and this time saw him staring intently at her body. It seemed like she made it a point to sway her hips a little harder this time and sent him a wink. Chris was so caught up with Alma, the pressure from his thumb snapped his pencil in half.

Alma drove away to what Chris assumed was the beach a few miles down the road. He steadied himself in his chair, taking in what saw. He decided to stay outside a little longer. Perhaps he was drawing her wrong. He relied on the way the sun highlighted her but neglected to see her beauty during the night. Wasn’t the night when she was most visible? Wasn’t the night when she came alive? These were questions he decided to put off for another time. Chris peeled himself from his notebook and front porch and headed to bed.

Work came and went as always. His shift ended with achy feet and dirty hands. Chris hung out in his truck longer than usual after clocking out. He watched from his vehicle as the sun seemed to sink into the earth. Alma’s storm door was cracked. Maybe he lingered in his vehicle to get a closer look at her this evening. He still wasn’t ready to answer the questions he pondered the night before. All he knew was he wanted to know her more intimately based entirely on observance and some sense of familiarity. He also wanted his after work beer.

Returning to sit on his porch with a cold brew in his hand, he stared at his unopened notebook. His lids were heavy. He could not go to sleep until he finished his drawing of her. The countless glances and effort to memorize every inch of her would be wasted. Something in his chest clenched at the thought of not etching her inside his notebook. It was as if he was worried about forgetting her.

Chris heard the familiar creek of Alma’s screen door. His heart almost jumped from his chest when he saw her leave her house. Donned in her usual dark burgundy scrubs, there was a new addition to her uniform tonight. Her head was adorned with a yellow and burgundy print material, intricately wrapped to hide her curls. This was the first time he saw Alma wear such garb but its appearance seemed to perfectly belong.

They performed their usual friendly exchange, which was consistent as a ritual. When Alma was out of sight, Chris opened his notebook to a clean page and began to outline a new sketch of her. Words accompanied the quick drawing.

“My light would never let you wane”.


End file.
